ADD: Until Goodbye
by Hiril Moon
Summary: Set somewhere in future of ADD, no real spoilers . Some Bobby angst while he's alone with his thoughts. Bobby/John Diet Slash/SlashLite.


**Warnings for Story**: Some surprisingly depressing ideas, some random sentences which were probably supposed to be funny, a distinct tailing off in writing quality (ie. Really bad ending), Bobby/John Diet Slash or SlashLite, a jump ahead in the ADD plotline (spoilers if you're a genius).

**ADD: Until Goodbye**

When you're a little kid, you think you're going to live forever.

No, that's not quite right. It's not that you think you're immortal; it's just that you don't think about dying. You just live every day and (if you're not unlucky) when you get up the next morning there's another one right in front of you.

Sometimes he'd give anything to feel that way again.

Because it doesn't last, does it? Sooner or later, through the news or a friend or a parent or just through living in the world, you find out about the flipside. The ending. The fact that none of this is permanent, before your poor little human mind can fully comprehend what that means.

He can't even remember how he found out. Funny, you remember all the little things like your first day at school; that kid who smelt of chilli (which seems much weirder, thinking back); the look on the teacher's face when you tried to draw for the first time… But not the complete overhaul of how you see the world. All he knows is that he has memories of running around without a care in the world, and that's definitely not where he is now.

It's not a complete switch though. God knows, if it was then we'd never make it past childhood. Suicide statistics would be through all twenty roofs and exploding out of the skyscraper of metaphors. In fact, some people avoid it all their lives. They're not all druggies, either.

He's just lucky, he guesses. He gets to have nights like this where he just thinks about it all. Even though it depresses him no end, he almost embraces that. Just to feel something, anything, that makes him more human. Although there are some who'd debate that exact noun.

It's so stupid. He can recall being like any other kid, fitting in, being _normal_. The whole of the first thirteen or so years of his life passed without much comment. He played tag; he wondered what it was like to be older; he thought ten meant you were grown-up; he trembled as if there was nothing holding him up at his first day of The Next Level Up; he got crushes; he got his first kiss.

Then there was that guy who'd insulted him about how stupid his voice sounded while it was breaking. The same guy who'd ended up being taken to hospital to thaw out his entire arm.

Things weren't so normal after that.

He'd been lucky, really, if you could call it that. It was near the end of the summer, with plenty of time for the Professor to call and offer him a place at the school while the doctor concerned was somehow dealt with for the short amount of time necessary.

Oh, the school had _seemed_ be the same, but you just couldn't get past the fact that the weird sound during the night was the latest student trying to fly repeatedly hitting a tree. Adolescent feuds got a hell of a lot more dangerous too.

And, of course, there had been meeting _him_. Just some guy standing outside the school, but he was so much more than that. Brown hair, a killer smile, an Australian accent which came and went, an annoying lighter… Oh yes, and the ability to play with fire in a far more literal and frightening sense.

God only knows why they'd become friends. By all rights it should've ended in disaster: one pile of ashes and one frozen dinner. Instead (probably to the relief of every teacher who knew about them), somehow they'd hit it off. It wasn't complete harmony, but it was much more peaceful than the alternative.

He allowed himself a small smile at the memory. Everything had carried on from there, and he'd actually allowed himself to believe that maybe it'd all be okay after all. Not perfect, but enough. The ice that wouldn't leave him alone was almost balanced out by finding somebody he could really be friends with.

Until everything changed yet again. First there was Rogue, and the mess of hormones and things he wasn't allowed to touch. Maybe he was just attracted to anything that was bad for him?

It would certainly explain the situation he found himself in now, right down to the tufts of brown hair sticking out from under the duvet next to him.

Sometimes he found it interesting (since that was all he could really register most of the time) to track how everything had spiralled away after that. John's unexplained moods; his own weird feelings of guilt; the escalating fire displays; the attack on the mansion; his parents; Ronnie... Oh God, Ronnie. Why did he have to go and do that?

And then, of course, the decision that sent everything spinning so far away from what he'd known before that he could still feel himself running to catch up. A choice between a friend and a girlfriend which translated into something much, much bigger.

Things had seemed complicated as a kid. Being ten had been worse; being a mutant even more so; being caught between two people more difficult than anything before it. He could remember sitting in the canteen about a year ago (was that all?) watching Rogue (no, she was Marie then) and John (or Pyro? It all got so confusing) having another argument and thinking _'Whatever happens in the future, it can't be much worse than this.'_

It still amazes him how bad his judgement was back then. No perspective or logical thought. It seems so…pointless, and, of course, so wrong.

He quickly learned how much worse it could get, obviously. When pushed into a position where he really did have to choose one or the other, it was almost too easy to chase after his best friend. A decision which had seemed major enough at the time, and only got worse after that.

Admittedly he didn't know most of what even could happen. The Professor had never apparently found it important to tell him just what his powers could mean or do, or that John had the same problem. He certainly never bothered to mention that it was already happening to one of them.

Thinking of the Professor was never a good idea though. Too many conflicting emotions, too much of something he didn't really know how to deal with anymore. Not that he found thinking about anything like that easy, but some were better than others.

He wasn't sure where any of his thoughts were going. After so much order to them, in a way it was good to let them unwind like this. The unpredictability made a change from everything just unfolding logically.

Where had all of this come from? Oh yes, thinking about death. From death to an overview of his life. It had a certain ring to it. Why had he been thinking about that in the first place?

A small sound from next to him pulled his attention away. Looking over, he saw the bump under the covers move slightly, then grow still again.

Of course, not everything that had happened had been bad…

He carried on looking, trying to memorise the moment. He knew what would most likely happen tomorrow. There'd be another mission, or another mutant, or another Disaster of some sort, and one or both of them would be off again.

And sooner or later one of them would…

Ah, that was it. The thought that had started this all off. It wasn't so much about thinking he could live forever or otherwise; it was remembering that there was no way this was going to last.

It was rare enough to have these moments alone. And soon they would vanish away too. Maybe in just a few years there'd be nothing left of them. After all, what were the chances of anybody knowing anything about them in a few decades? Their lives only mattered to them, with no lasting effect on the future.

He guessed that was why he stuck with what many would call the wrong side. That desire to leave some sort of lasting mark, or, alternatively, not to lose somebody who made his own time seem worthwhile.

From time to time he wondered if it wasn't so much John himself who was special, but more the fact that with him he could feel things. When John died, he'd be left out in the cold. Or cold inside, to be more literal.

Fear of losing the few points of proper emotions and…whatever it was he felt/thought around John (because he thought of him differently even when everything else seemed the same): the two things that kept him going, really. God, what a depressing thought. Knowing that your life boiled down to _that_.

John moved again, making a sound that was automatically filed away under adorable whether his friend liked it or not. Funny to still see him like this after everything they'd done, not to mention everything they'd become.

Maybe this was all that mattered. The moments in between; the time spent living; the minutes that added up to hours which he wouldn't regret. Not a perfect solution by anybody's reckoning, yet it felt like enough. Despite what anybody else might say, they were only human, in spite of everything.

Bobby smiled to himself, lying back and starting the complex and dangerous process of trying to wake John up. After all, there was enough of the night left to work on those memories.

Before they said goodbye again.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Yes, I live. Shocking, isn't it? I'd love to trundle out a whole variety of excuses, such as exams and holidays, but the fact remains that I really should have put something up before now. And, while we're at it, I probably should have been working on ADD instead.

Sorry about the rather depressing side (ie. The front) of this little fic. I started it on a whim Tuesday evening, wrapped up in a hoody and wondering exactly how much I trusted the people who said the world wasn't going to end. Couple this with reading Battle Royale (from a friend) and Watchmen (from the library) and I was feeling pretty morbid. What better than to start writing? Evolved into an X-Men fic because that seems to be all I can write, then an ADD spin-off because the plot was on my mind at the time.

The mood/writing kinda fluctuates because I was writing this over a series of days, so I felt/wrote differently. I'm not sure how I feel about it overall. I've proved that I find it hard to stay completely angsty when writing, and I'm not really happy with some of the writing, but it's only filler really.

As for its place in ADD, it's set at some point in the Undefined (for you guys) Future. Maybe I'll say when I've reached this point (if I ever do). Couple of clues to the upcoming plot if you can spot them. For those of you who've never read ADD, thanks for looking at this anyway. Sorry if it seemed a little odd.

Speaking of ADD, I hope to get back to typing up the next chapter after this. I did this before, you may recall: writing a short little story before going back to that giant thing.

I talk too much. If I'm not careful, this could get very out of proportion…


End file.
